


Tender and kindle

by kheradihr



Category: Pokemon GO, pokemon: and the world will turn to ash - Fandom
Genre: Booty Calls, Booty calls that become something more, F/M, a disturbing lack of bdsm, except spark/amelie's foot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-12-14 21:54:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11792244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kheradihr/pseuds/kheradihr
Summary: What was supposed to be a booty call becomes something rather different yet changes nothing. aka, Spark is probably going to fuck up any expectations you have because that's just the contrary fucker he is.





	Tender and kindle

**Author's Note:**

  * For [surfacage](https://archiveofourown.org/users/surfacage/gifts).



> Flashlight's name and backstory belong to my friend Pedes but Amelie's ninetails is all hers. If you want to read the fic, it's [A vulpix named Flashlight.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9123958)

 

     "That...that's a lot of coffee. Like, a lot. Enough that I'd call it a metric magne-fuckton. Why are you getting so much coffee? I thought that was...ya know, like intern shit. Does Team Rocket even have interns or are they like baby Grunts just hatched from their jail cells and put in shitty uniforms?"

     Amelie sighed into her venti quad dirty chai as the barista tried to engineer a way to put three tiers of drink carriers holding venti-sized beverages into one bag per her instructions. She hadn't slept in 72 hours -- Flashlight was sleeping in his heal ball, the lucky bastard -- and she knew there would be at least three Grunts waiting with paperwork for her at the hospital. Hopefully the staff figured out how to keep Noire under for longer than half an hour at a time. If not, the drinks would keep them occupied — and still — long enough for Amelie to get through some of the paperwork.

     "It's not coffee," Amelie answered, letting her voice carry some of the exhaustion she was feeling. "It's twelve different hot chocolates flavored at the baristas' discretion and left unlabeled except for its number. The number corresponds to a list that will be sent to me at least three hours from now with the actual flavors so Noire can see if they were right in guessing."

     A gloved hand closed around her elbow and turned her to face him. Even without Zapdos riding him his eyes were sharp and heavy like an impending thunderstorm. She didn't pull away, simply raised her drink between them and took another sip while she waited for him to find his words.

     "Where is Noire that they need this sort of distraction?"

     There it was, the deceptive calm that meant if Amelie didn't answer to his satisfaction she would have even more paperwork waiting for her. She knew Zapdos was ever-present and aware of Spark in a way that was more intimate than her and Flashlight's relationship but that was what one got when soul-bonded to a titan. It also meant  _that_  particular titan was more willing to lend its power to its bonded. And people thought her job was hard because of  _Noire_.

     "Boss got injured while leading a strike team to a Cipher cell that popped up one city over. The cell was trying to track down former test subjects.” That second piece of information in her statement was classified for only executive officers but the one person outside her team she could trust with that information and to make sure it wasn't announced to the entire universe was Spark. If Candela was in front of her -- actually, if Candela was near Carl would warn her with fifteen minutes to spare in getting the fuck out of Dodge. That's why he was her drinking buddy on the rare day off. The hand around her elbow tightened. "They're fine. Expected fatigue from over extending, a few stress fractures from jumping off something too damn high and a couple dislocated fingers so they can only flip off Executive Sabrina behind her back with their off hand."

     He nodded. Looked like he expected to hear everything she said. Hell, he even looked reasonable. That was why she wished she was still armed with at least her knives, rather than wearing Grunt leggings under an oversized button-up that was probably stolen from a doctor's locker. It hid all her injuries well and she knew he couldn't feel the bandages on her arm with hands fried from his mark -- the reason why he wore the ever-present gloves. That was why Go was afraid of her; she coaxed secrets out of him too easily, unlike Carl and Annie. Go was easy and Spark was unreasonable. Spark reasonable was never a good thing.

    “And you?” He asked, voice that tone that made her worry about the color of the sky more than the Titan-strengthened, nerve-damaged hand on the elbow she wrenched hauling Noire into cover while Flashlight scattered will-o-wisps everywhere. For a moment she felt Noire's compact weight against her chest as they heaved for breath after corrupting already corrupted pokemon to their will rather than Cipher's. Flashlight's growl warning her that those corrupted pokemon would be on them if Noire collapsed. Her temper flared.

    “Didn’t you hear me Instinct? Boss is in the hospital, not me.” Her head tilted to draw his eyes to her body. It was upright and visibly undamaged. What was missing was her uniform and boss whining and draping themself all over her because the hot chocolate wasn’t ready yet to make this a normal meeting rather than the charged one it was becoming.

    He frowned at her tone and looked at her the same way she caught him looking at Noire before a fight; calculating and seeing too much for his typical bird-brained airhead personality. His lips pressed together, wiggled like someone was holding them shut while he thought. She waited again for him to find his words, drinking her chai. It was almost empty.

     Finally he let go of her wrist and plucked her drink from her hands. "Another for her, on my tab."

     A barista answered and the one still trying to fit Amelie's order in one bag nearly sobbed in relief of a reprieve. By the time Spark's arrived, a deceptive looking venti iced americano, her order was bagged and another venti quad dirty chai was slid over for her. Spark grabbed it first and with a sharpie he procured from somewhere, scribbled something on the cardboard insulation ring. He let her have her drink before capturing her elbow again and pulling her close. Fuck and damn was he tall and she wore flats right now.

     "If you need anything, let me know. Anything, Amelie." His eyes, blue like the most perfect sky in Kalos, bored into her with intent.

     "I got it." Fuck and damn again. Now she saw why Noire kept coming back to him and from him looking loose-boned without that underlying current of self-loathing she knew they hid from all their years together.

     Just as suddenly as that intensity arrived, it was gone and Spark smiled brilliantly at her and put the bag full of hot chocolates in her free hand. "Tell Noire I said hi."

     Uh huh.

 

_**Amelie** : Put your money where your mouth is. La Grande Hotel 7:45pm, the penthouse. And wear a collared shirt for Entei's sake._

 

     He hadn't expected the text. It came just before noon and he knew Amelie wasn't even in the region from Noire whining to anyone who would listen; Go terrified because Spark plunked the Rocket Executive on his lap so he could get some work done or he'd have both twins on his ass in a way that wasn't going to be sexy. When he saw the text he had to double check the number in case it was Candy, but no, it was definitely Amelie's personal number.

     Guess he had a date. Now to find that damn shirt Carl bought him as an unsubtle hint to dress 'appropriately'.

 

     A knock rang annoyingly cheerily against the foyer molding at 7:45 sharp. The private elevator had dinged at 7:41. He actually followed her instructions. Without looking Amelie raised her voice.

     "Come on in."

     She could hear him walking in, pausing to look about, low whistling whenever he saw something impressive as if he had never been in La Grande's penthouse. Eventually he stopped in front of her chair, looking out the huge picture windows, letting her see what he came in in. It wasn't his usual outfit. Navy blue button up that made his eyes look like butane flames tucked into low rise raw denim skinny jeans worn soft to disguise themselves as slacks and his hi-tops.  His hair looked soft instead of Jolteon-static spiked. It looked good on him. He looked good and for some reason the tightness between the knob of her spine and shoulders eased.

     "You're light about nine tails and a vicious burn," he commented idly like he hadn't been called for a booty call. Like he wasn't standing to let her admire how his thighs and shoulders stretched his clothes across his body. He wasn't that oblivious, penchant for stereotypical blond behavior nonwithstanding. She knew from months of dealing with Opal City's newest team leader.

     "Flashlight's sleeping in there." She gestured to the mostly closed bedroom door across the room with the hand still holding her empty glass. She had been too lazy and brain-dead to get up to refill it. Spark caught the glass, eyeing her as some sort of knowledge slotted into place before he blinked it away.

     "Refill?"

     "Fuck, yes please."

     He laughed. "Maybe later. Right now you need to take a load off. Rough time schmoozing with other assistants?"

     "Yes and no. They're easy to handle, it's the fact that they think their lives are hard running around an office all day. Besides K, there are no other combat-active exec-asses."

     "K?" He asked blandly, offering her her drink before sitting in front of her, next to her crossed ankles on the coffee table. She could kick him without moving much. Her toes knocked his hip reproachfully.

     "Don't give me that face. I have the pictures of you two throwing Candela in the pool at Blanche's birthday last year. He's Jessie and James' assistant."

     "Oh, him! I thought he was Blanche's friend from university. I like him. Great mouth."

     Amelie hummed in agreement to all his statements. He was a university friend of Blanche's who once -- only once -- mistook Noire for them and the rest was history. He had a great mouth that he put to work in enough ways he and Carl meeting would be either the best or worst moment in existence. What they were drinking was a gift from K. During the retreat they spent many hours sighing commensurately about how soft other exec-asses were. When they parted at the end of the retreat it was with an exchange of favorite liquors, a thorough but friendly kiss and a reminder to take care of herself. It was why she wanted Spark here instead of going home to Noire’s eevee-fluffy ridiculousness of missing her. She wanted -- no, craved -- the edges in Spark's personality, the razor-sharp smile shaped from doing what was necessary.

    “What the hell are you doing?” she demanded, boot not in Spark’s hands pressed against his cheek. She was flashing him; not like he hadn’t ever seen more before. Noire was still banned from every laundry room in the city because of _that_ incident.

    He let the laces at the back of her ankle boots fall from his fingers to unzip the heel and slip it off her feet, baring padded no-show socks. He set the boot under the coffee table — her other boot still pressed against his cheek — before reaching for the one on his face.

    “I’m takin’ your shoes off.”

    The boot, now loose on her foot, pressed again against his face. “We are not doing any kinky shit you do with Noire.”

    He was strangely solemn when he got the boot off his face and off her foot before placing it next to its pair. “No ‘kinky shit’ Amelie. Just helping you relax.”

    She eyed him skeptically over her drink but let him take off her socks and massage her feet. He found each of the knots in her feet and worked them loose with firm fingers, switching feet in between knots to let them relearn how to use the newly freed muscles. By the time full night fell Amelie slouched in her chair, half-buttoned shirt laying askew and pencil skirt hiked up her hips. She eyed him through her third drink as it balanced in a loose grip on the chair's arm as he diligently worked on the muscles in her calves with lotion he found inside the bathroom. He left her skin tingling, residual electricity courtesy of Zapdos keeping her calves from tightening again. She rarely wore heels and it was coming back to ruin her after a week of being in them nonstop. As his hands began to massage her knees, she spoke up.

     "I didn't call you over for a massage, Spark."

     "Then tell me or I'll just spend the night fighting your knots because holy shit Amelie they're fuckin' everywhere. Noire needs to--mmph!"

     She had him by a lapel, hauling him for a kiss that would make K proud. He growled against her lips before licking into her mouth, chasing the taste of alcohol and what was probably a stale mouth, she hadn't brushed since before her flight. She bit his upper lip and dragged him backwards until he had her pressed hard into the chair back, one knee a point of heat against her bare thigh. The raw denim was as soft as it looked as she let go of her drink to grip his thigh, knowing her nails were leaving crescents through the fabric. As he pressed further, engulfing her with his body the chair they were in tipped and fell backwards with a muffled thump. She grinned into his mouth before laughter overcame them both.

     When they finally found their breath their foreheads were pressed together, breathing each other's air and gradually growing high off the increased levels of carbon dioxide in their lungs. Spark wiggled his feet under her calves, making them kick idly and suddenly Amelie wondered what Spark would do if she brought him to her childhood swimming hole where she hid for days after stealing Flashlight. She had taught the small vulpix how to swim there in those days. It was a dangerous thought: she could see him floating in the pool, sun-tanned skin glowing through dappled sunlight, coaxing her to skinny dip during the new moon with nothing but chinchous to provide light. His eyes would be gorgeous, hands devilish until Donglord and Flashlight interrupted them by diving into the pool with a recklessness that belied the inherent danger of their types entering water without precaution.

     Dangerous thoughts, more dangerous than the man above her, to be having when they were technically enemies.

     To distract herself from those dangerous, traitorous thoughts she grabbed two handfuls of his ass and kissed him again. He rutted against her knee and whined.

     "Amelie, babe, you can't do that when we're like this. My hips don't bend that way."

     "Then get off and we can go to the bed."

     "You have sex with Flashlight in the room? On your bed? That is  _kinky_ Amelie."

     She smacked him in the stomach with all the force she could muster and he just laughed into her shoulder until he suddenly remembered her neck existed. Teeth sank into the muscle joining the two and Amelie arched into him as he left a bruising kiss there. It felt good, the pressure loosening tightness stored there for years. She tightened her fingers in his hair, unaware of when she let them leave his ass, and pulled his head away from her throat.

     " _This_  will not get us into the _master_ bedroom, birdbrain. I don't want rug burn."

     "Fine," he sighed, the word stretching to quadruple syllables. He somersaulted over her head and popped up, bouncing on his feet. Coming around the chair where Amelie still lay sprawled comfortably, he bent, hooked one hand under a knee, the other curled around her waist and lifted her. Skirt hiking higher, her legs wrapped around his hips, her already wet panties pressing against the hardon straining his jeans. She ground against him and pointed to the master bedroom, doors already open and her luggage set to one side of the bed. Capturing her mouth in a filthy kiss that had her arching into him even more, they made their way to the bed where he tossed her to shuck his shirt. While he didn't unbutton it all the way, he pulled it over his head and draped it gently on her largest suitcase.

     "Shoes!" She wanted to swear. For someone who told her no kinky shit, he was doing a lot of things that ended with a foot on his face.

     He looked at her, mid-crawl to follow her up the bed, face full of hopeless fondness under her foot and toed off his his hi-tops before following her. Her skirt slid off as she moved upward, not caring and no longer trying to keep track of hands and how they managed to do things, all she wanted was to undress Spark and leave marks all over him as he panted into her skin.

     Instead of following her all the way up the obscenely huge bed he caught an ankle and pressed a kiss to the inside, dragging teeth and lips up her leg. He nipped her knee, eyeteeth sharp against skin and still out of reach. She wanted his head in her hands so she could hold him in place between her thighs, let his smart mouth do something useful for a change.

     When he got within reach he didn't disappoint, eagerly mouthing at her panties, hooking his fingers in to pull them towards her knees. She lifted her knees so he could remove them fully but he simply ignored the help and wriggled his face between her thighs.

     The things he did with his mouth made her think of all of Carl's smiles, Spark's laughter, and through all of that see stars more brilliant than Lugia's silver feathers. He nosed her clit, nuzzling as his tongue curled inside her, rubbing on her upper walls. Every time her legs tightened around his head he would pull back, easing off so she didn't come immediately. Fingers gently massaging her thighs, he coaxed gentle releases out of her until she was boneless underneath him, fingers stroking his hair, soft like a ninetails' fur. She blinked lazily as Spark kissed the inside of one thigh, nipped the other and scooted up the bed to lay next to her. One hand propped his head up as the other unbuttoned her shirt, smoothed along the flat line of her torso. Her eyes followed and idly noted her panties still dangled from one ankle.

     "How you doin'?" He asked, voice soft like they had both come, like he wasn't rock hard against her hip and still had his dick trapped in his obscenely tight jeans.

     Amelie made to groan but it was too breathy and sated to come close. "Do you ever shut up?"

     Shit-eating grin lit his face like fireworks. "Only when my mouth is occu--nnff. Amelie, you are so mean," he whined as she gripped his cock through his jeans. "I'm trying to help."

     "Then 'help' by fucking me through the mattress."

     Spark's eyes flashed yellow and his hair started to group together into spikes. Very carefully, like he was afraid of breaking something, he slid off the bed and reached for his belt. She watched electricity arc between the metal and his fingers as he unbuckled his belt and shucked his pants.

     Fuck and damn. He was gorgeous and distracting, all muscle from being physically active instead of gym queen fluff she often saw. Beyond his titan mark, small scratches and bite marks peppered his fingers, wrists, and forearms from hand raising pokemon. His dick -- his dick was flushed, head fully out of his foreskin and bobbing gently.

      _Get back here and get inside me_ was on the tip of her tongue and he smiled like he heard it. Laying next to her, he rested a hand over her heart, watched her chest rise and fall under his hand. Yellow streaked his eyes and she could feel a charge thrumming from his skin and skating over hers. Strangely she wasn't afraid, much like when she watched Noire wield the Red Chain. Deadly and awe-inspiring.

     "Are you sure you're not chosen?" The delicacy in which he asked hinted that she wasn't in bed with just Spark. The ridiculousness of Zapdos being _delicate_ made her huff a laugh.

     "The only thing that has willingly chosen me is Noire. And even that is questionable in actuality."

     Spark's eyes burned brighter yellow, bleeding green where it met blue, meaning something she didn't want to analyze with arousal coursing through her and Spark-Zapdos laying naked and ready next to her. They kissed her, a curiosity of affection, claiming, affirmation, and of course, teeth.

     "Do not sell yourself short, little flame. In choosing you allow yourself to be chosen. I like that strength." Then Spark blinked away the yellow. Only Kalos-blue skies looking back at her now. "Okay buddy, Amelie can have this talk tomorrow morning at breakfast. Right now she needs at least three more orgasms."

     "Who said I was letting you spend the night?" She drawled, pinching a nipple and watching him shudder and rut against her. She would think later. Much later when she could pin Carl in place -- steal or disable his chair -- and get questions out of him.

     "Please Amelie? Don't make me leave in the middle of the night. That's cruel."

     She pretended to think about it as he hooked his chin into her shoulder, attempting puppy eyes while his face was flush and eyes arousal-glazed. It was as successful as Noire’s. Meaning not at all. She only caved when the whining got embarrassing.

     "Make it worth my while and I'll consider it."

     "Ma'am, yes ma'am."

     After that there wasn't much conversation. He covered her, sliding in easily and then she was full to the hilt, body clenching around his girth, trying to draw him in further. He moved leisurely, thrusting slowly as he arched to fit a nipple in his mouth, its twin being stroked by nimble fingers. He was talkative, murmuring praise and affectionate things to her body as he worshipped it. Pleasure mounted in her as he steadily ground into her mons and she wanted more even as another shivery orgasm washed over her.

     He pulled back and hooked her knees over his hips, kissing her as he changed the angle and even before her orgasm finished, he pulled back until she felt herself stretch around the head of his cock. She whined and clawed at his shoulders, nails dragging along muscles. He marked pretty well considering how tan he was. She left another set of rows for sheer pleasure through her frustration. Then his smile sharpened, showing off his canines, sharp even when not ridden.

     The stars she saw earlier, sparkling in the corners of her eyes long after he finished eating her out, went nova, exploding as he slammed into her. He didn't let her get used to the force, pulling out and pounding in. The slow tempo slowly picked up pace, the force of his thrusts never lessening. She could barely breathe, pleasure punching the breath out of her with each thrust and barely having room to draw breath as he drew out of her, like his absence inside of her created a vacuum. He was still talking, telling her things that would be embarrassing in any other situation as she keened, hands scrabbling, leaving marks on his chest and arms.

     Just when she thought she would explode from the relentless assault Spark bent down and ground down just so. She came with a shout, clawing at whatever she could reach to expend the energy released. It wasn't enough.  His shoulder was so close and she sank her teeth in, part revenge for his teeth, part desperate gamble to not scream herself hoarse from the orgasm. Dark satisfaction pulsed inside her to the time of her heartbeat, deep and throbbing, as she heard him gasp and writhe under her teeth. She wanted to pin him down now, watch the smug bastard inside her squirm.

     She could feel him twitching inside her, hard and hot, but not yet coming. He needed to thrust to come and she wasn't going to let him. Using combat-trained muscles she rolled them over until she was atop, gasping from the change of position. He was pressed against her cervix -- fuck and damn so large and filling -- the flare of his cockhead brushing against her g-spot with every breath no matter who breathed.

     "Ahnmellie?" Spark gaped up at her, chest heaving and sweat-slicked. "I...I can't--"

     She smiled. Rolled her hips while clenching slightly. He keened, hands holding onto her thighs almost too hard, unable to buck into her with the way she had her legs clamped around his hips.

     "That's the point," she crooned, admiring all the red lines decorating his chest. Her own Red Chains marking him, tying him to her. She liked the idea, she realized as her body and heart clenched at the thought. She would chase the process later, for now she was going to milk Spark dry.

     Mimicking the pace Spark used when he first entered her, Amelie rolled her hips, riding him slowly, like it was her day off and she wasn’t getting out of bed until she masturbated. Underneath her, his legs twitched, feet trying to gain purchase on the sheets to buck into her at the pace he wanted. But his turn was over. It was what Amelie wanted and she wanted him breathless and desperate, coming under her at her desire.

    Spark didn’t disappoint, fingers flexing to looser grips as he lost coherence to not hurt her. It was sweet and that had her coming earlier than she expected. Considering that was her fourth orgasm that night and she was technically jet lagged it grabbed her, held her trembling at the edge and dropped her like a puppet with its strings cut. As she blinked the world back into focus she saw Spark still lying underneath her, arms spread with hands clenched.

    She swore. He was still waiting to come. Waiting on her to tell him when she was ready. Curving over his body, she placed a hand over his heart where it thudded heavily. She imagined she could feel the electricity in his body, the natural thing that kept his heart beating and signals shooting along his nerves under her hand. Throat suddenly bone dry, she said his name. Blue eyes snapped to hers and she nodded, her other hand pressing into the muscle next to the first, bracing herself for what was to come.

    He took her hips and with strength that had to come from another primal source, slammed into her without pause or rhythm as he came. She could feel him expanding minutely, cock pulsing as he poured his load inside. One last orgasm, feeble but still enough to scramble her senses, rocked her forward until her face was next to her hands, teeth sinking into his left pectoral. He bit into her other shoulder, leaving a matching mark.

    They came down from their orgasms together, Amelie stretching her legs out and letting her body slump on Sparks even as he stroked her hair and back despite not being able to actually feel where their bodies touched. Slowly and with help from Spark, Amelie rolled off of him and stumbled to the bar where K’s bottle sat. She gathered two new glasses, splashed a bit in each and brought them to the bed. Spark’s glass sat on his chest as he still laid on top of the covers. Amelie slipped into the bed, fishing for the remote and room service menu. He babbled something and she looked over the menu.

    “Once again, with actual words this time, Spark.”

    “I told them at least three orgasms.”

    She took his drink and didn’t give it back until he stopped whining and crawled under the sheets to join her. They bickered over the remote until they agreed on a random cartoon and he whined when she told him he had to answer the elevator to get room service. Flashlight came in halfway through demolishing the room service cart and ate out of both of their hands, delicate muzzle hiding teeth that crunched through what was left Spark’s T-bone steak. They slept and the next morning Amelie woke to Spark snoring beside her. Smiling, she rose, showered and dressed. Before leaving she left a note stuck to his forehead.

    _If you need anything, call me. I mean it._


End file.
